You May Just Be My Forever

I noticed something felt different when I woke up this morning.

I don’t think it was the new spring air that came sweeping in through our window, or the fact that our sheets felt cooler without you in them.

Today marked a full year of my life I’ve spent with you, and for the first time in a long while I felt awakened.

I rolled out of bed and started the shower. The sun beamed in through a steamy view, and I closed my eyes toward it. The daily worries and irrational fears that begin to creep up in the early hours weren’t there. Everything felt like it would actually be okay.

I think about what it will be like when you return from your trip. When I can hold you in my arms and feel at home again. We can play Sam Cooke as loud as we want and dance in the living room because this is our reunion and the world around us will suddenly become our own.

I like the way this new feeling has settled inside of me. I climb to the roof so I can be closer to the sun that felt so good on my skin as I started my day. It’s warmer than usual and New York City looks like a far off painting. Hues of gold and blue reflect off of skyscrapers and I know I’m right where I belong, waiting for you to come back to me. Back where you belong.

It’s hard not to smile when I think of you. Usually when you’re gone it’s the exact opposite, and I only feel alone. Today feels different. Today I have the sun, and thoughts of you that I can keep with me forever. I continue to think about the way you make me feel and everything we’ve created together. The world feels smaller and more connected with you. Everything makes sense.

It’s funny to me how I still get so excited about you returning from just a weekend away. I laugh at myself as I climb down the ladder to our apartment and close the latch to the roof. I had no idea that one person could possibly make me so constantly amused, excited, and in love. Although it’s only been a year, I start to think about what it might be like to be with you for a long time.

Actually, I think about what it might be like to spend forever with you. I wonder what type of relationship we would have in twenty years, and if I’d still feel excited when you’re returning from another short trip. I imagine the sound of your voice when we’re older. I think of what it might feel like to kiss you goodnight for decades. The sun feels warm on my skin when I pull open our kitchen windows.

I remember the nights where we drank too much cheap wine and danced slowly together while I was still in college. The wind from the window reminds me of the breeze from the air as you would whip me around underneath your arm and spin me closer to your body, kissing me softly on my lips. We had no idea how to dance but you were already keen on how to spin my whole world around me. I think about what it might be like to dance with you later on in life, in a kitchen that might not even be built yet. I think about what other places we may live and travel to, and dance inside of. I imagine how warm your chest and body will feel against mine. Just as it will tonight, when you’re back from your trip.

And that’s when I realized what had felt so different about today, our one-year anniversary. I no longer was consumed with whether you and I will survive another day, or week, or month. I was no longer concerned about whether I would still be able to call you mine at a point later than this very moment. I no longer felt fear or loneliness because I realized today that every moment we’ve shared has been just the beginning to something so much bigger and more beautiful than anything we’ve ever known. And, instead of fearing the future, I’m looking forward to it. There’s no reason left for me to fear losing you. I have you with me everywhere I go. I take you with me like the sun. I can never lose you, even when you’re gone. Your essence still touches me, and I know I’ll feel you again once more.

Today, I thought about what it might be like to feel the sun with you for the rest of our lives. I smiled. I can’t wait for you to come home. You are my eternal muse.